Tourist from the Future
by TehWhimsicalOwl
Summary: Harry Potter's life could be described with many words, but relaxing was never one of them. So three years after Voldemort's defeat, Minerva McGonagall decides to take things into her own hands and force him to take a little vacation. After all, Harry would be an excellent DADA professor, and one of the only people capable of keeping the marauders in check.
1. Chapter 1

**If Time-Travel is possible, where are the tourists from the future?**

**-Stephen Hawking**

* * *

Harry ducked as a stream of light flew over his head. He shielded, then shot an _expelliarmus_ back at the Death Eater. "Dean!" he shouted. "Take Seamus, Terry and Susan and go round the back. Use disillusionment charms!" Harry's former roommate Dean Thomas nodded quickly in assent, and the three aforementioned tapped themselves with their wands and promptly disappeared, leaving nothing but a slight shimmer behind. Ron and Harry shared a look, and advanced towards the house, working together and Ron held up a _protego_, while Harry shot offensive spells at the enemies.

Even now, three years after the defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort on the 2nd of May, they were still rounding up his followers. Harry Potter had joined the aurors straight after the Battle of Hogwarts, never even completing his seventh year of school. Now, at 21 years of age, he was still fighting Death Eaters. But this time he was not alone. Many members of the DA had become aurors, and today he was joined on this raid by Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, Terry Boot, Susan Bones, and of course, his lifelong friend Ronald Weasley. They had recently located a safe house being used by former followers of Voldemort, and were now attacking it.

As the Boy-Who-Lived and his best friend advanced, they saw the faces of the Death Eaters. Alecto and Amycus Carrow, who had escaped Ravenclaw Tower during the Battle of Hogwarts. Harland Selwyn, responsible for bullying Xenophilius Lovegood after Luna's capture. Merton Travers, who had aided him and murdered of Marlene Mckinnon, member of the Order of the Phoenix during the first war with Voldemort.

Harry dueled Selwyn, quickly stupefied him, and tied him up with _incarcerous_. Meanwhile Ron fought Travers, and Seamus, Terry and Susan appeared from behind the Death Eaters, quickly joining the battle. Terry punched Amycus Carrow in the face. "That was for beating me up in seventh year."

Needless to say, the Death Eaters were apprehended and subsequently imprisoned.

* * *

Harry Potter sat in his office, doing paper work. He sighed. This was undoubtedly the worst part of being an auror. His thoughts drifted back to the aftermath of the war while filing a report. After Voldemort's defeat, he had fulfilled his dream of joining the aurors, and gone through training. And the people, that had been a nightmare. Everyone had been so adoring, so happy, so _grateful_. They gave him awards, even an Order of Merlin, First class. But it meant nothing. (Though he didn't mind them giving him a chocolate frog card.) The country rejoiced, while the heroes mourned. Mourned for their dead friends, family and loved ones.

And Harry mourned too. He mourned, not just for the dead, but for himself. For the childhood he had never had, and the teenage dreams that had been ripped away from him. He had never gotten back together with Ginny. It just hadn't felt right anymore. But he had continued on with his life. He threw himself into his work, he continued learning, and he forgave Dumbledore.

He remembered the old Headmaster once saying, "Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living and above all, those who live without love."

His thoughts were brought back to the present as a drop of ink dripped from his quill. He also remembered Dumbledore saying that it did not do to dwell of dreams, and forget to live. He packed up his things, and apparated away to the front gates of Hogwarts, as close as you could get before the wards stopped you. Minerva had asked him to come visit at the request of Dumbledore's portrait.

He entered the grounds, making his way to the Headmaster's office. Headmistress' now, he thought. He used a secret passage to get there faster, ducking behind a tapestry and whispering the password (_silendum_). He came before the gargoyle, and said "Shock-O-Choc". Minerva had continued using various candies as passwords for her office, to honour the late Headmaster. It opened, and he walked up the stairs.

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me."

Those were the first words out of his mouth when they explained to him what they wanted him to do.

"You're absolutely mad. Barking!" Minerva gave him a stern look. "I can assure you Mr Potter, my mental health is not in danger. It's quite simple really, you need a vacation, and are proficient in Defence against the Dark Arts. You have taught it before. What's more, they could use at least one decent teacher, especially in those times. Your belongings have been gathered by the House Elves."

There was no protesting, he was fighting a losing battle. "Alright I'll do it."

"Good. Albus left me precise instructions for this spell. He created it. _Viginti__ Trium__ Annorum Redire_"

Harry James Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Man-Who-Conquered, and whatever other stupid titles he had been given, appeared in front of Hogwarts, bag in hand, on Monday the 29th of August, 1977.

He went to the Headmaster's office, retracing his footsteps from earlier. Or later, he mused. Time travel.

He arrived at the gargoyle, and realised that he did not know the password. "Okay, er, Fizzing Whizzbees? Jelly Slugs? Pepper Imps? Sugar Quills? Chocolate Frogs? Ice Mice? Fudg- Oh, chocolate frogs." He climbed the stairs past the gargoyle.

* * *

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was sitting in his office. He had had quite a normal day, and he was hoping that it would become a lot more interesting. So far, the most unusual thing that had happened was when he had accidentally taken a matching pair of socks from his sock drawer. Of course he had put one back and taken another, because really, wearing socks that matched? He had a reputation to uphold! Then he heard the soft chime of the alert that meant that someone was coming up the stairs to his office. He frowned, school hadn't started yet, so the castle was empty. Who could it be?

The door opened, and in walked a young man, in his early twenties. He was tall, and muscled, with striking green eyes and shoulder-length messy black hair, a streak of white in it. From stress, perhaps? The stranger was wearing scarlet auror robes, and carried a bag in his hand. He had a scar in the shape of a stylized lightning bolt on his forehead. His face seemed familiar, but the old Headmaster couldn't quite place it.

"Headmaster. I've come to apply for a job. I hear the Defence against the Dark Arts post is open?"

* * *

Harry walked into the office and saw the silver instruments clicking and whirring, the same old desk with its usual bowl of lemon drops, and Albus Dumbledore, alive and twenty-three years younger than when he had last seen him. (Not counting his portrait.)

"Headmaster. I've come to apply for a job. I hear the Defence against the Dark Arts post is empty?"

Dumbledore seemed taken aback. "Yes it is. And who might you be?" he enquired. Harry gave a wry smile. "That's actually quite a long story. So, to put it plainly, I'm from twenty-three years in the future, and your portrait and Professor McGonagall sent me back in time with a spell you invented. My name is Harry Potter, son of James Potter and Lily Potter, née Evans. I believe they are seventh year students right now?"

Dumbledore gaped for a moment, then collected himself. "Do you have any proof?" Harry nodded and handed him a letter, written by Professor McGonagall.

**Dear Albus of year 1977,**

**This is Harry James Potter, born in 1980. He is who he says he is, and has full qualifications in Defence against the Dark Arts, he is an auror and has taught defence before. His false name will be Harry Privet. He will return to 2001 at the end of the year, you need merely say**_** tu dimissi viatorem **_**and he will be transported home.**

**Minerva McGonagall**

**Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry **

**P.S. Your favourite flavour of jam is raspberry.**

After reading the letter, Dumbledore looked up and smiled sadly. "In your time I'm dead, aren't I?" Harry nodded slowly. "You are. I can't tell you more about the future." Dumbledore inclined his head. "Of course. I believe you. It says here you have taught defence before?" Harry smiled in remembrance. "Yes, in my fifth year, the defence teacher was horrible, so we made a club called Dumbledore's Army, or the DA for short, which I taught."

Albus smiled. "Well, you're hired. Here's your schedule, school starts on Friday for everyone except the first years, as we like to give them time to settle in; they'll have a long weekend. I trust you know where the defence teacher's rooms are?" When Harry affirmed the statement, his eyes twinkled and he said "Good day. I look forward to working with you." Harry replied "Good day Headmaster Dumbledore."

"Please Harry, call me Albus. We are colleagues." Harry smiled and waved "Good bye Albus."

As he made his way to his rooms, he whistled a cheerful tune that he had heard Dumbledore himself whistling in the past, though he didn't have a clue as to what the words were. He arrived in front of a portrait, who had obviously been told of his arrival by a House Elf. The portrait introduced himself as Russell, and Harry set his password to 'Hope is the only thing stronger than fear.' He went inside, dropped his bag on the ground and went to bed exhausted by the day he'd had.

He'd need his sleep for what was yet to come.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Realized that I forgot to say this last time, so: I don't own this, JK Rowling does.  
Parts of this chapter have been quoted from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. There is also one line that I took from Ranger's Apprentice.**

* * *

Harry walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. His confident walk didn't show it, but he was a bundle of nerves. He was going to meet his former (future?) teachers, and they didn't even know him. As he headed towards the Head table, he saw the other professors watching him. They seemed to be evaluating him, to see if this year's DADA teacher was any good. The looks felt very judgmental, but he realised that even at this time, they had already had a lot of terrible idiots like Quirrell (minus Voldemort stuck to the back of his head) and Lockhart. Then he remembered that Lockhart was one of his students now, a third year Ravenclaw. Well that was just weird.

He reached the table, and Professor D –_Albus _he corrected himself– stood up and introduced him. "This is Harry Privet, the new Defense teacher. He will be joining our staff this year." The other members of the staff applauded politely. Harry muttered a "Thank you." and sat down, between Minerva and a tall blond witch who cheerfully introduced herself as Catherine Caelum, the Astronomy teacher. Minerva then introduced herself, "Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher, Deputy Headmistress, and Head of Gryffindor." Harry smiled, and said "Wow, that's a lot of jobs, you must have a lot of work. I'm Harry Privet, though of course you already know that. Also, I was wondering, are all professors' names alliterative? Should I be named Harry Hamilton?" The two witches laughed, and it broke the ice.

They chatted as they ate; Minerva and Catherine pointed out the other teachers. _(That's Filius Flitwick, Charms and Head of Ravenclaw. You know, I think you're right about the whole alliterative thing.) _Catherine then started telling them about 'The Butterfly Fiasco', an incident that happened last year in her class, involving a teacup, a pineapple and purple butterflies. "Really, I don't even know how he managed to conjure the butterflies, but we couldn't vanish them and we had to go fetch Minerva to get rid of them."

* * *

When breakfast was over, he excused himself to go plan his lessons. Minerva wished him luck, and Catherine sympathised over having to create lesson plans from scratch. As he headed to his rooms, he wondered if Professor Caelum had survived the war with Voldemort; in his time the Astronomy teacher was Professor Sinistra.

"Hello Harry! How are you on this very fine day?" Harry started. He had forgotten Russell, the painting that guarded his door. "Hi Russell, I'm doing good. I met two of the teachers, Minerva McGonagall and Catherine Caelum. How are you?" Russell looked ecstatic that someone was speaking to him. "I'm having a marvellous day."

"That's great!" Harry smiled and said the password. "Hope is the only thing stronger than fear." The portrait swung open and he entered his rooms. He sat down at his desk, pulled out a piece of parchment and started the long and arduous task that was planning lessons.

* * *

_A tall man with round glasses and black hair, so much like his own, making puffs of smoke with his wand. A beautiful woman holding him, with red hair and green eyes. His mother's eyes… A door burst open. "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off–" A flash of green light, the man falls to the ground like a marionette whose strings were cut. "Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"  
"Stand aside, you silly girl … stand aside, now …"  
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead –" Tears falling from those eyes, so much like his own.  
"This is my last warning –"  
"Not Harry! Please … have mercy … have mercy … Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything –"  
"Stand aside – stand aside, girl –" Another green flash of light, the woman drops. Red eyes looking into his own.  
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Harry Potter woke up with a start, drenched in sweat. He sat there for a moment, calming down. He hadn't had a nightmare that bad in two years. He sat up, put on his glasses and reached for his wand. He cast a charm, and groaned when he saw the glowing writing. September 1st, 4:07 am. He knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, so he got out of bed and went to get something to eat. As he munched on a piece of toast, he thought about his dream. He had a lot of nightmares about the war, about Voldemort, but he still dreamed about the night his parents died the most.

Today he was going to see his parents alive, for the first time in twenty years. Not people telling him stories about them, or saying he looked like his father and had his mother's eyes. Not memories, or the mirror of Erised. Real flesh and blood, walking people. His parents. Even if he was three years older than them and teaching them DADA. And they weren't even dating yet. Sirius and Remus would be alive too. He chuckled, as he thought that now it was his turn to teach Remus Defence Against the Dark Arts. Oh Remus, how the tables turn.  
And Pettigrew. Wormtail. He had mixed feelings about him. Of course he hated the rat, but he hadn't done anything yet. At this point in time, he was just Peter– the fourth Marauder, 17 year-old Gryffindor.

He also knew that, still united, the Marauders would likely try to prank him. Well they'd be hard-pressed to prank him, paranoid auror that he was! He made a mental note to always check his food for tampering and his classroom for spells.

Honestly, Harry didn't know what he'd do the entire day until the Welcoming Feast. His stomach already had butterflies fluttering about in it. He wondered wryly if they were purple.

* * *

As Harry sat at dinner, half-listening to Catherine as she talked to him, putting in a 'Hmm' and a 'Uh-huh' when needed. He was more focused on watching the Gryffindor table. He watched the Marauders laughing and joking, and he watched his mother (_Miss Evans _he reminded himself; it wouldn't do to call on her in class and call her Mum) talking with her friends. Dorcas Meadowes, Emmeline Vance and Marlene McKinnon, he recognized from old photos, as well as Alice Smith and Frank Longbottom, Neville's parents. All of the people he could see were either dead or worse.

He cast his eyes towards the Slytherin table, and there too he recognised students: Severus Snape, his old (future?) Potions professor and Regulus Black, Sirius' younger brother. A few other faces looked familiar, he supposed they were future Death Eaters.  
As his eyes continued to wander, he spotted a blond third-year Ravenclaw. Gilderoy Lockhart, the fraud from his second year! His lips twitched, remembering the Cornish Pixies. He vowed to himself that he would be a better teacher than him. That wasn't setting the bar too low though.

He turned his thoughts back to Catherine, and started chatting to her again.

* * *

Sirius sat at the Gryffindor table, enjoying the wonderful Hogwarts Welcoming Feast. His friends were seated around him, and as he ate, he watched them. He knew all their little eating habits, like how James just shoved everything into his mouth, not even paying attention to what was on his plate. Peter ate with little bites, picking out things like onions because he hated them. Remus always put food on his plate, and then separated the best bit, saving it for last so that he would have the best taste left in his mouth at the end.

"Hey Padfoot, you okay? You're pretty quiet tonight." That was Remus. Sirius grinned. "I'm fine, mate. Just thinking." Remus feigned a gasp and surprised face. "And here I am without pen and paper to record this momentous occasion." Sirius smacked his arm. "Prat!" James chuckled, finishing off the last of his food. Sirius glared at him. "I was _thinking_ about a prank." Peter nodded. "Ah, that explains it." Sirius threw his arms into the air, looking outraged. "Is no one on my side? What is it, pick on Padfoot day?" The other three Marauders laughed, while James patted his head patronizingly.

"So _anyway_, I was thinking of a prank to play on the new Defence teacher." Peter looked at him, slightly surprised. "There's a new Defence teacher? Dumbledore managed to find one?" Remus jerked his head towards the staff table. "Yep, sitting next to Professor Caelum, dark hair, glasses. Looks kind of like Prongs actually. I bet Dumbledore will introduce him after the feast." Sirius looked where Remus had indicated. The professor was talking amiably with the Astronomy professor. He did sort of look like James, with scars and longer hair. And older, obviously.

James looked too, and commented "He is wearing Auror robes though. He might be a little hard to prank."  
"Not backing away from a challenge, are you?"  
"Don't be thick Padfoot, of course not. Besides, there's not a soul the Marauders can't prank."

* * *

The chatter around the Great Hall subsided as the Headmaster stood up and cleared his throat.  
"Thank you. Now that your hunger has abated, I have a few start-of-term notices for you. First years students, and a few of our older students-" Here he paused and looked at the Marauders, who assumed looks of innocence. "-should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all students. Mr Filch has also asked me to remind you all that magic between classes, in the corridors, is not allowed. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone who wants to play for their house team should contact Madam Hooch.  
Finally, this is our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor: Harry Privet!" There was some applause, and the new teacher grinned at the students.

"And now, time to sing the school song! Everyone pick a tune, and off we go!"

'_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees.  
Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot.'_

Sirius leaned towards James and muttered "I swear the founders were drunk when they wrote that." James looked at him seriously. "Padfoot mate, I reckon you've hit the nail on the head."

* * *

Harry laughed after the song was sung. Some things never changed.

* * *

Peter grinned as he made his way to Gryffindor Tower, with his friends around him. He was glad to be back at Hogwarts, with Moony, Padfoot and Prongs. He really was lucky to have them.

As Head Girl, Lily Evans was leading the first years to the tower. She said the password, "Paper Tiger" and turned to the first years, who looked amazed at the portrait swinging open. She smiled softly at their faces, remembering her own amazement when she was that age. "That was the password that you will need to remember to be able to get into the Gryffindor Tower. I'm Lily Evans, the Head Girl of the school. If you are ever lost, have questions, or need help, don't hesitate to ask a prefect, myself, or my _colleague_ James Potter, the Head Boy."

She glared at him, and he suddenly remembered he was supposed to help her lead the firsties, and he should be talking with her right now. He blushed a bit. "Ah err yes, don't hesitate to ask us anything, um yeah. And don't do anything stupid." Lily glared at him. He supposed he hadn't done a stellar job of being Head Boy today. But he did have an entire year to impress her with how seriously he was taking his job! He drew himself up slightly. "Follow me. This is the Gryffindor common room, dormitories are upstairs, boys on the left and girls on the right."

He looked to Lily, the love of his life, to see if she approved. She looked slightly surprised, and studied him for a moment before turning away. At least she didn't glare at him. Sirius patted his back. "Still hung up on Evans? It's only been, what, six years?" James sighed, and dragged Sirius to their dorm by his arm, as Remus and Peter followed. The flopped on their beds, exhausted.

* * *

Lily was brushing her hair before bed, ignoring her roommates. Just because that utter blockhead actually acted his age didn't mean he was changing! Marlene whined. "But Lilyyyyyyyy! He was so cute, he looked at you after doing his job, like he was looking for your approval! Maybe he's going to change, become more mature, and become someone you like!" The redhead turned to face her friend. "Yeah Marlene, dream on! I'll never like that tosser. I'm going to bed."

* * *

Harry grinned in the darkness, lying on his bed. He had memorized his schedule, and he would have 7th year Gryffindors and Slytherins tomorrow, ehich was Friday. He couldn't wait.

* * *

**Tell me what you think of it so far! Sorry that I waited so long to post this chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Update: I am an idiot.**

**So I wrote this chapter and published it and was all happy, etc, and then I got two different reviews that say I posted the second chapter twice. So I had a moment of 'I didn't, did I?'**

**I did.**

**So now here's chapter three and my sincerest apologies.**

* * *

"Proooooooongsss! Prongsies, Jaaaamess!" Despite Sirius' insistent yelling, his absolute tosser of a best mate would not wake up! But then he got an idea. "_Aguamenti_!" he whispered, and a stream of water shot out from his wand, soaking James. The latter gave a shriek and jumped out of bed, fumbling for his glasses. Once he found them and put them on, he saw Sirius' 'innocent' face, and grabbed his wand. "You'll pay for that Padfoot!"

* * *

Harry walked into the Great Hall on a fine Friday morning in a good mood. He sat down and started eating breakfast, but not without subtly checking for pranks in his food, his wand up his sleeve. Nothing, he was safe. He glanced over to the Gryffindor table, and noted with some confusion that James Potter was smirking at a purple and orange Sirius Black. He deduced that his father was the one to have done that. He chuckled quietly to himself, sipping his tea.

When breakfast was over, he headed off to his classroom, ready to teach the fifth years. His first class!

As they filed in when the bell rang, he searched their faces for anyone he knew, while greeting them at the door. He recognized one Ravenclaw boy. Barty Crouch jr. He kept his face blank as he calmly greeted him. Crouch was innocent. Just one of his students. Once they were all in and had seated themselves, he walked to the front of the class. "Hello class. I'm your new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. My name is Harry Privet, you may call me Professor Privet." He spoke softly, but firmly. "As I am new, I have yet to learn your names, so bear with me if I forget or get it wrong. Now, as I understand, your education in this subject has been rather fragmented, so could one of you tell me what you have covered so far? Yes Miss Hookums?"  
"We've covered minor spells, jinxes, and creatures, as well as shield charms." Harry nodded, then said "Right, have you worked on dodging, or curses?" When the class collectively shook their heads, he sighed. "So today we are going to work on curses. What do you know about them?" A sandy-haired Ravenclaw raised his hand. Crouch. Harry called on him, and the boy answered. "Curses are Dark Magic, worse than hexes or jinxes. Dark wizards use them, and the worst three are called the Unforgiveables."  
"Alright, so these are a list of curses, I want you to write what you think they do, if you know them."

* * *

Harry sat at his desk, completely exasperated. He was teaching the third years. If he had thought that Gilderoy Lockhart was a bad teacher, he was an even worse student. Eager to prove his 'abilities', and yet hopelessly incompetent, putting himself and his fellow students in danger merely by waving his wand. He had set the class a simple exercise on banshees to be able to have a break.

"Professor, what would happen if you frightened a banshee and she screamed?"

Harry groaned. Lockhart was back at it again.

'Maybe you should try it and find out!' He really wished he could say that out loud.

* * *

"Goodbye Professor!"

"Goodbye Miss Chittock."

Harry let himself wear a relieved grin as he shut the door to his classroom after the last third-year exited his class. The grin didn't last long however, when he remembered his next class. Seventh-year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Whoever made the classes was sorely mistaken if they thought that was a good idea. He'd see the Marauders, and his mother. His stomach seemed to do a sort of flip just thinking about it. He checked his watch, and he had two minutes until the students would be lining up outside the door. He flicked his wand to rearrange the desks into two U shapes, one inside the other. He shuffled some papers around his desk, not really knowing what to do.

* * *

"— I don't see what is so hard about this Marlene. I. Do. Not. Like. James. Potter." Lily glared at her friend, who was wearing a mischievous grin.

"Sure you don't."

Lily sighed, she was impossible. She decided to change the subject. "What do you think Defense is going to be like?" Alice just looked at her with one raised eyebrow, but went along with it.

"I dunno, the new teacher seemed kind of young. But the Headmaster wouldn't employ someone that didn't know their stuff."

They arrived in front of the door and lined up, waiting. Lily considered Alice's previous statement. While it was true that Dumbledore wouldn't employ someone substandard, maybe he'd had to lower his standards, either because of the curse on the position, or because good fighters were needed for the war. She voiced her thoughts out loud to her friends. Marlene looked thoughtful for a moment, then replied, "Maybe, but it goes both ways. We need to be taught Defense now more than ever because of the war against You-Know-Who." More students were arriving now, it was almost time for class.

* * *

Remus cursed under his breath as he ran with the absolute prats he called his friends. They were going to be late for Defense against the Dark Arts. This was not going to make a good impression on the new teacher. He glared at Sirius.  
They arrived at the door just as bell rang, and skidded into the line, trying to make it look like they were there the entire time.

* * *

Harry took a deep breath, then opened the door and greeted his students as they entered the room, taking in the clear line between the Slytherins and Gryffindors as they sat down. He took in the Marauders' disheveled appearance and concluded that they had arrived just on time. He raised an eyebrow at them, and Remus at least had the decency to look abashed.

Once they had all filed into the room, he shut the door and went over to sit on the corner of his desk. He repeated what he had said to all the classes he'd had previously. "Hello class. I'm your new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. My name is Harry Privet, you may call me Professor Privet. As I am new, I have yet to learn your names, so bear with me if I forget or get it wrong. Now, as I understand, your education in this subject has been quite inconsistent, so could one of you tell me what you have covered so far?"

Remus and Lily's hands were the first to shoot up into the air, he called on Remus. "Yes, Mister Lupin?"

"We've covered jinxes and hexes, some creatures, the shield charm, offensive spells, some physical fighting, and a bit of theory of the Dark arts."

Harry nodded, taking it in. "Alright. Before we jump into lessons, I'm going to take a moment to ask you what you know about the war. Have your previous Defense teachers, or any other teachers, mentioned it?"

The class collectively shook their heads, and Lily's hand went up again.

"Miss Evans?"

"All we know is that there is a war against You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters, and they're dark wizards. The teachers wanted to shelter us."

Harry looked at his mother, disappointed. "You-Know-Who, really? Even muggleborns buying into that idiotic superstition?"

Lily at once looked outraged. "Well I would say his name if I could! But as it is I can only call him You-Know-Who because everyone else knows who but I DON'T. I DON'T KNOW WHO! No one would ever tell me his name!" Shouts of "Yeah" and "It's not fair!" from some of the muggleborns in the class supported her.

Harry looked at her in shock. He had never considered that no one would have told them upon their arrival at Hogwarts. It made sense now though. "I apologize. I never realized that no one ever told you. The name of the so called Dark Lord is Voldemort." He turned around and wrote it in big letter on the black board. One girl started laughing, he believed her name was Juliana Lewis. He turned towards her, "Something funny?"

"But that's just bad French! It has a couple of things it could mean in French, but everyone's seriously that scared of that?" Another boy turned towards her.

"It has several meanings? I thought it just meant flight of death." She shook her head.

"In French, 'vol' and 'de' are fairly ambiguous. Voldemort could mean flight of death, or flight from death, but it could also mean theft of death or theft from death."

Harry just sat back on his desk as he listened to his students debating the meaning of Voldemort, while some of the Slytherins and purebloods looked at them, stricken. He may not be teaching, but they were still learning a lesson. They wouldn't have a problem with Voldemort's name now, and they'd probably spread it around. After about five minutes, he cleared his throat, and the class fell silent.

"As fun as it is to debate the meaning of Voldemort's name, I should probably move on to actually teaching you something. Now, to quickly review things that you've done in the past, here is a little quiz. It's alright if there are things that you don't know in there, I just want a good grasp of your knowledge."

* * *

Remus said goodbye to Professor Privet as he walked out the door, then turned to James. "That was a great class! The new professor seems, to be really good." James grinned at him.

"I completely agree. I really hopes he stays."

Sirius came up from behind them. "Come on, let's get to lunch, yes the class was good but I'm hungry!" The other marauders chuckled, and Remus teased, "That's our Padfoot, always thinking with his stomach."

When Sirius protested, Remus just smiled at him. "Don't ever change."

"Don't worry, he won't." James assured him.

* * *

As Lily walked to lunch, she thought about the class they'd just had. She had been mortified when she started ranting about 'You-Know-Who', but the professor didn't mind, and he had told her what it actually was. And then they'd had a mini debate over Voldemort's name! She grinned, and Alice noticed.

"From the look on your face, I take it you liked the lesson?" Lily nodded, and Alice smirked. "You know, I noticed the professor looked a little like Potter. Maybe the reason you liked the lesson so much was because—" Lily didn't let her finish the sentence, stopping and turning around to glare at her with her arms crossed.

"You were saying?"

"You know, I think I'll just shut up now."

* * *

Harry smiled as he made his way to lunch. The class had been excellent, and he had seen that he obviously got his temper from his mother. He reached the head table and sat down next to Catherine. He greeted her, and she grinned at him, before asking, "How was your first day of teaching? Were the students all right, or did they misbehave terribly?"

"It was great, and the students were good too. I just had a first-rate lesson with the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins." Minerva raised an eyebrow at him from Catherine's other side.

"A first-rate lesson with a class that includes the Marauders? You'll have to teach me your secret." Harry laughed.

"They were quite well-behaved, actually. We also had a lively debate over the meaning of Voldemort's name, it was quite interesting." Had Minerva been drinking, she would have spit out her pumpkin juice. Harry cheerfully continued on, "Apparently it has four different meaning in French, as both 'vol' and 'de' could mean different things."

He then proceeded to finish eating his lunch, as the teachers who had heard what he said all stared at him. When he was done, and the others seemed to have decided that he was mad, he bid them adieu and walked out of the Great Hall to get ready for the second years.

As he walked back to his classroom, he smiled as he recalled the looks on their faces. He would tease definitely Minerva about this when he got back. She'd never live it down.

* * *

**So that's chapter three! Tell me what you think of it if you want, feedback is always appreciated! :D**


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